A/N: This chapter is dedicated to my husband, because kaijus and Redwall

side note: if you're wondering why hector can use solar beam, recall that the mangroves from the archipelago give light to fishman island. Said development in my research inspired the first part of this chapter. - also, if it seems a bit overpowered, remember that the mangrove that powers Fishman is called " Sunlight Eve" making it comparable to the Adam Tree.

Also, a mild cilantro warning.

Ch. 11 – Of Monsters, Mice and Men

The story ground to a halt at the sound of Luffy's grinding teeth. Helena looked at him, slightly alarmed. The last she had seen this kind of intense focus in the captain's face, it had been when she and Hector had sunk the Going Merry.

She was honestly surprised he'd stayed awake this long. Long exposition generally wasn't his thing. However, as Helena recalled, Akainu had been the one to kill Luffy's brother.

"He, um, didn't kill me, Luffy," Helena felt the need to point out.

Luffy didn't lose the intensity in his gaze.

"Actually, I didn't even get to fight him there in the plaza. Hector saw to that."

"I had a feeling you were going to say that," Zoro put in. "He's not one to sit by and watch his queen take the fall."

"That insubordinate fool," Helena chortled. "He was determined to upstage me…"

It was a knee-jerk reaction. Hector hadn't intended to blatantly disobey his Queen's order. But Helena wasn't just his queen and superior. He and his wife had been given charge of the little princess since the day she was born; since the day their dear friend Leda, had died.

He'd watched Helena take her first steps. He'd been there for her first word. Zeus, he had been her first word! – He'd watch her grow from the child obsessed with wooden swords, to the cheeky teenager who thought she was above the common soldiery. – Had agreed to draft her at fifteen, though well below the legal age, to show her humility after she'd made that god-forsaken vow to Athena. Andromache may have taught her swordsmanship, but he had taught her survival and strategy.

He had presided over every one of her duels, including her fateful confrontations with Dracule Mihawk, and with Roronoa Zoro. – had watched her painful transformation from princess to queen, and from wife to mother. Through it all, he had offered love in the form of both encouragement and censure. Oh yes, he had helped her to fight more than just her physical battles through the years.

In short, she was a daughter to him. Here at the end of it all, he couldn't bear to watch her give her life when his would do.

The platform on which she stood sprung like a giant bear trap around her, encircling her in a cage of branches. Before she could turn her sword on her little prison, before Akainu could put his cataclysmic powers into effect, Hector swung her wide and launched her, cage and all, away from her attacker.

The Fleet Admiral had to duck as Hector swung his liege around like a great ball and chain. Straightening up now, he immediately turned his attention down to the General.

"Loyalty without reward," Akainu chided, then he chuckled as his fists glowed red hot in preparation for the fight to come. "How quaint. A tree trying to change the course of a volcano."

The General tightened his roots for all the good it would do him, and pulled at the only relatively fireproof branch in his spear. It was a recent acquisition, actually: a striped, resin coated branch of a Yarukiman Mangrove. He hadn't experimented with it much yet, but had discovered that the resin could offer some protection against flames; hopefully he could last long enough to allow the rest of the civilians to fight their way free.

As he bonded with the wood, allowing stripes to coat over him and his ironwood armor, he remembered the day he'd been promoted to General – the day Helena had seen him in his great, plumed helmet for the first time. She'd been nothing more than a babe, and had wailed at the sight of him until he removed it, revealing that he hadn't transformed into some strange monster.

She needed a monster now, though. A monster to fight a monster.

"Monster King," he pronounced in his great, deep voice.

He grew suddenly tall, tall like a yarukiman mangrove. He had never encountered a tree as sizeable or strong as this one before his visit to Saobody Archipelago. He hadn't had much practice using it yet either, and his sudden altitude took even him by surprise. Towering over the palace, over the plaza and Akainu, over the very city, his widening trunk indiscriminately shoved all combatant aside, not to mention completely destroyed what was left of the fountain and all of the surrounding buildings, including the front end of the palace.

Reveling in his newfound strength, Hector molded himself into a draconic form. Massive, muscled legs formed from his roots, balanced by a long tail. Smaller mangrove trees sprouted like spikes up along that tail and over his hunched, sinewy back. He flexed great, clawed arms, his spear all but swallowed up inside him now. All that remained of his armor was a king-sized version of the helmet, perched atop his snarling, reptilian face.

He caught sight of Akainu, who stared up at him momentarily paralyzed with awe from where he'd been thrown atop a crumbling building.

The mangrove had one major weakness. Unlike other trees, it drew its nutrients from ocean water, not soil. In that regard, Hector had strategically placed himself over the broken hydraulics of the salt water execution fountain. It wouldn't be enough to power him for long; certainly not at this size. Besides, the salt water made him sluggish, at odds with his devil fruit. He only had a moment, but he would make the moment count.

As long-time owner of the wood wood fruit, Hector knew to leave his spear, armor, and any other wood he kept on hand to soak up as much sunlight as possible. Even now, under the light of the moon, he could feel the solar energy especially stored up within the mangrove, which seemed to retain it better than most.

The spines along his back lit up with golden light, throwing a dawn-like pallor over the city. Hector drew in a great breath of ash choked air.

"Queen's Wrath!"

He roared, and a powerful beam of golden, sunlit energy shot into the admiral, blasting him straight through the rubble, through the ground and labyrinth beneath the city, deep, deep into the earth. Clean, pure oxygen shot out of Hector like a shockwave, so powerful and fast that though it flared some of the fires on the outskirts of the city, it put out the rest almost instantly. More importantly it allowed everyone a clean, nourishing breath of fresh air.

He threw back his great head in triumph. "Eleleu!" he roared.

"Eleleu!" his city roared back.

Helena shouted back the war cry with her people, tears streaming openly down her face now. Though she felt the universal renewal of energy her people had received from Hector's display, she knew as he did that it would take more than that to defeat Akainu.

Surrounded by the open wreckage of his protective pomegranate and laurel tree cage, she could see his giant, draconic form hunch over the pit he had created. He would not run. He would wait for the Fleet Admiral to resurface, and he would slow the magma storm to follow, giving others time to fulfill the Queen's last command.

Never mind that her command applied to him as well. Damn that fool.

Helena had landed just within the walls. Hector's aim had obviously been intentional, for she'd also landed near to the unit of Pikemen and new recruits that Robertus had transported in from Spathens. They were only three-hundred strong. Hardly enough to take back the city.

The leader of said group lowered his pike, which he had raised to shout the same war cry. He grinned broadly at her now, all bravado despite the situation.

"Hector always has to go over the top," he chuckled, successfully hiding any distress at their grim situation with good humor. "He just had to upstage you there, eh Presh?"

"You know, I'm not even mad," Helena replied with a shrug, his good humor somehow rubbing off on her. She even managed something of a smile at the old nickname. "Doing alright there, Polydorus?"

"Thatth CAPTAIN Polydoruth!" a toadlike, pot-bellied man beside Polydorus corrected, interrupting their conversation. Atop his pike waved the unit's standard; a long, grey pennant with a deep blue border. It had a variation of Ilium's ensign stitched in the middle – a diamond surrounded by a laurel crown.

"Harold, that's the Queen, thank you," Polydorus du Priam corrected, eyebrow twitching at the interruption. He'd always had a polite streak, even when at his most annoyed. Normal in build, if a bit over-developed through the shoulders, he resembled his brother Paris more than Hector, but without the vain attention to looks.

Turning back to Helena, he ran a hand through his middle-short hair, deep red like Bordeaux, not the chestnut brown of his brothers. – he had a grey stripe down the center of his head and in his sideburns, but it had nothing to do with his age, as he wasn't much older than Paris "My apologies, Majesty. That's Harold, our herald. He's new."

"Yeth, I'm Harold the herald. I'm new!" he repeated proudly.

"New? I suppose allowances could be made, then," Helena acknowledged, leveling her gaze with the squat standard bearer. He gulped uncomfortably. She turned her attention back to Polydorus. "Can you give me an update on our rat problem, Captain?"

Polydorus nodded. "In all honesty, we weren't making much headway; there are just too many of them. It's the fires that sent them into hiding. I presume they're about to make a comeback now that Hector's put a good portion of them out. Do you have new orders for us?"

"Yeth, have you new orderth?" Harold echoed.

Polydorus coughed. "We've been over this Harold. You don't need to echo everything I say, thank you."

Helena blinked at the completely inept herald, but then decided to ignore him. "You heard my little speech just now?"

Polydorus nodded. "Your last command has reached us out here, yes. Unfortunately, we can't obey it unless we see all the civilians to safety first."

"Yeth, thivilianth to thafety firtht!"

Helena ignored Harold again, and placed a hand on Polydorus' shoulder. There was a time, back when she'd been in his unit under Hector, that she would have had to reach up to do so. Now she had a few inches on him. "I expected no less. Your orders are to get my people out. Protect them at all costs."

Polydorus saluted, pounding one fist to his chest. "Tis an order to my liking, my Queen," he said.

"Death before dith-honor!" Harold lisped loudly, and the rest of the unit echoed him in salute.

"Death before dishonor!"

They showed no fear, but she knew that what she asked was at odds with her command. They wouldn't be able to get everyone out, which meant Polydorus and his three hundred would make their last stand here.

First Paris, soon Hector, next Polydorus. The Sons of Priam had all given Helena more than it was fair to ask. And all so willingly.

Polydorus must have seen something in her face. And he knew she wasn't asking him to give up more than she herself was doing. "Anyway, I can't be outdone by our Precious Princess, eh?" he added with a wink, trying to improve her humor. He spoke quietly so Harold wouldn't echo him.

Helena made a face at the nickname this time, about to retort, but something caught at the outskirts of her attention: someone flying toward her, ridiculously fast.

Calypso.

He was a blur, and still masked, but Helena knew him by the aura of rage alone. He had both machete at the ready. She barely drew Peleus in time to block him.

Polydorus had never been one to sit idly by. Though he didn't have Helena's reflexes or practice with observation haki, the moment he detected the intruder, he swung his pike wide. Calypso ducked, but the pike still connected with his enormous wooden mask, cracking it clean through.

Calypso shook himself free of the splintering mask, allowing it fall to the cobbles at his feet. With a snarl he turned his swords on Polydorus, but Helena shoved the pikeman aside, blocking Calypso with both Peleus and foot sword now.

"Stick to your orders!" Helena cried. "Leave this one to me!"

"But Majesty…!"

"But Majethty…!" Harold echoed.

Helena didn't have breath to waste on them anymore. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, something else soon caught Polydorus' attention.

Calypso hadn't gone after her alone. His partner rocketed after him, cheese shooting out of his feet from behind. Feta quickly ditched the Hestia mask he'd been wearing, which had filled with orange goo, threatening to drown him. The cheese trail brought a wave of rats in his wake, enticing more out of hiding by the second.

"This is our chance to cut off the source of the rats' control," Polydorus shouted, recognizing the opportunity for what it was as he turned his attention to the cheese man. "Pikemen of Spathens! Prepare yourselves!"

"Pikemen of Thpathenth! Prepare yourthelveth!" Harold the herald echoed in a shower of spit.

"Yes, thank you, Harold," Polydorus sighed.

"Quelle folie! Quels imbéciles! You think you survive against le Roi des Rats?" Feta cried, towering over them in an orange fountain of slime. "I'll make cheese of you! Go my pretties! Feed!"

He showered cheese down upon the pikemen, making them direct targets.

Polydorus' normally good-natured expression curled into a snarl. "King of the Rats, eh?" he said. "But what is a rat next to a badger?"

Hunching over, he put a zoan fruit into effect: Badger Badger fruit, version, Honey Badger. Wine red fur sprouted over his body, while the grey stripe grew to cover the top of his head and back. His teeth sharpened, his face lengthened, his fingers stretched into long digging claws. Still clutching his pike, he raised it high over his head:

"Eulalia!" he cried.

"Wrong book, thir," Harold corrected.

"Ah, yes, thank you Harold," Polydorus replied, then lifted his pike again. "Eleleu!"

Soon a heated battle was underway. If Helena had glanced toward Polydorus' unit she wouldn't have been able to see them anymore for the furry rodent wall now covering them. All she'd have seen was Polydorus and Feta, fighting pike, cheese and claw above the crowd.

She didn't have a glance to spare. Calypso swung at her too hard and fast. He hadn't landed a hit yet, but it was only a matter of time. And yet, perhaps there was a way she could beat him. Like Zoro, he needed a moment to ground his strongest attacks. If she kept close to him, kept him on his toes, perhaps she could find an opening.

It was wishful thinking at best, she knew. Calypso had once fought her without his swords drawn, had made a mockery of her in the Garden of Aphrodite by forcing her to dance when she wanted to fight. Now he wasn't distracted with flirting, wasn't toying with her. He wanted to slaughter her.

But what if she toyed with him instead?

"Hmm, you are a lot more intimidating when you don't say anything, Mr. Calypso," she observed honestly, then went on with more bite: "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

Calypso's lip twitched. He swung at her hard, and she came close to having her rib cage sprung wide open. Fortunately, she managed to get out of the way. She'd left him a little too much space. She'd have to get closer.

"Why Mr. Calypso, no lewd remarks about my legs today?" she started, kicking a blade out at him from her slit dress. "I have to say, I'm disappointed. After all, I worked so hard to get them free just for you!"

She had drawn back a leg and made to skewer him. Calypso didn't respond except to parry. He swung his free sword at her, but this time she moved too quickly for him to put any height or power into the attack.

"I meant to tell you, Zoro had time to help me improve during our little trip," she added, "You know, between…other things."

She laughed as he growled at her between gritted teeth. Like a ballerina en point, Helena rose onto one of her swords, then flipped over him as he slashed at her unsuccessfully. She nicked off one of his dreadlocks as she went, and felt some satisfaction as it fell to his feet. Oh, yes, that made him mad.

Time to press her luck.

"Ode to Terpsichore - Odile!" she exclaimed, landing again en pointe. Pirouetting on the tip of her sword, she spun around him in a tight cyclone, catching him with small, piercing slashes from her other foot as she went, 32 fouettes in all.

During their second honeymoon at the archipelago, Zoro had very thoughtfully – somewhat self-sacrificingly – suggested they go to the ballet. She hadn't been in years. He got a good nap out of it, of course, but some of the dancers' movements had inspired Helena with new fighting techniques, which had undoubtedly been his intention.

Helena finished the attack as though standing on a pair of stilts, balanced with Calypso directly beneath her. All she'd have to do was spring even an inch off the ground, pulling her legs together – an assemble. – and she would cut him to ribbons.

But Calypso had finally had it. She'd flustered him enough that she'd actually managed to land a few small cuts, but not many. Over the course of the attack, he had crossed his blades over his body for protection. In the pause while she jumped, he lashed outward with both blades at once, blackened by haki.

Her foot blades shattered and she fell.

So much for buzzing around the head of the bear.

Zoro winced internally, though he tried not to let it show on his face.

Helena hadn't exactly been giving them a full play by play of the battle, but she'd mentioned using her new technique against Calypso. While fast and impressive to look at, she hadn't perfected it before they'd parted, and it was woefully underpowered. She'd have been better off doing her old Triumvirate of the Gods attack.

She had probably slowed down Calypso a bit with awe-factor at least; maybe that was it. Or perhaps she'd been feeling nihilistic and wanted a chance to try it in real combat before everything was over. From the way she described the events at the execution fountain, she'd had no intention of leaving Ilium alive.

Helena must have detected something in him, for she glanced his way, then quickly turned her gaze back to the other straw hats. Leaning back against the chair, she sighed, and discretely placed her hand over his where it rested beside her on the bench.

"I'm sorry. This is probably not all that important," she went on. "I think it's sufficient to know I faced a number of opponents far above my level, and in rapid succession."

"This Calypso guy," Usopp put in pensively, "He was stronger than you?"

Helena nodded. "By far," she admitted. "Zoro, would you say it is a fair assessment that he is at least as strong as you are?"

She squeezed his hand, perhaps trying to communicate that she didn't mean it as a slight toward him, that she was just trying to prepare the crew with the truth.

"I'm honestly not sure," Zoro admitted. "I don't think I ever saw a full display of his power, nor he of mine."

Helena blinked at him in surprise.

"Splitting the ocean down to its bed and causing tsunamis isn't a full display?!" she exclaimed.

"Zoro split the ocean in half?!" Luffy cried, eyes twinkling in excitement. "So cool!" Apparently they hadn't witnessed any fantastic displays like this from Zoro yet.

"No, Calypso did," Helena clarified, "Zoro caused the Tsunami. The two of them together were able to kick it back, but I think…"

"I could have knocked it back without his help," Zoro put in petulantly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was about to say that, Dear," Helena added, chuckling. Then she leaned back again in the chair, running her fingers through her messy hair and staring up at the ceiling. "Gods. Why did I ever think I was something?" she asked no one in particular. "I should consider myself lucky I lost to Zoro, before I lost to someone like Calypso. I just honest to Zeus did not understand how wide the world is! – nor the reality of my miniscule place in it. True swordsmen are a real force of nature!"

"You are a true swordsman," Zoro felt the need to point out.

"Aw…" Robin said under her breath, but then he finished:

"…Just a weak-ass one."

Helena arched her eyebrows.

"WATCH IT, MOSS HEAD!" Sanji cut in, getting in Zoro's face. "Just 'cause she's your wife doesn't mean you can insult her in front of me!"

"You're flexible, disciplined, and creative, but not strong…" Zoro went on shamelessly, shoving Sanji aside, but keeping his attention on Helena.

"Zoro!" Nami chided.

"But you already knew that…" Zoro continued, ignoring her.

"Zoro-San, should you really speak to her like that?" Brook inquired.

"Which is why it's good you're here," Zoro concluded, crossing his arms over his chest again and nodding. "We can finally work on that."

Helena burst out laughing, It took a moment for her to speak. "It's a little late for that now," she pointed out, still chuckling despite her sad observation. "All the same, I'm glad you're still as blunt with me as ever, Zoro-kun."

"You like that he talks to you like that?!" the Straw Hats cried.

Helena shrugged. "Honesty is important in a relationship."

This woefully inadequate response didn't wipe the looks of shock off the crews' faces, but Usopp soon drew the conversation back to the task at hand.

"So this Calypso guy…" he brought up nervously again. "If he is seriously that strong, how are you not dead?"

Helena shrugged. "A pinch of luck, I think."

Two blades down and hurting from a face first tumble into the cobbles, Helena quickly flipped over to parry Calypso before he could slice her in half. It was a close call. She barely managed to lift Peleus in time to block him, but he came down so hard with both machete that her own blade pressed against her sternum. Her rapier bit into her, but she quickly turned it to the flat side before it cut her.

Then she remembered she was using Peleus. It shouldn't have been able to hurt her at all. Why had she felt the sting of the god-forged blade?

There wasn't time to think on the gods' betrayal further. Calypso's attack was crushing the air out of her.

At that moment, Helena happened to catch a breathless glimpse of the battle between Feta's rats and Polydorus' three hundred. Someone had wisely thought to smash one of the small aqueducts that ran near the walls of the city. The downpour had washed the pikemen free of cheese, which kept the mice from swarming as much. It left the men enough space to beat them back.

Polydorus fought Feta head on, and at least for the moment remained cheese free as he dodged the chef's attempts to smother him in goo. The captain couldn't land any particularly good hits because the cipher pol agent could harden his body somehow. It wasn't haki – it was some technique Helena had never seen before.

However, all Polydorus' dodging about meant that some of the cheese blasts splashed past Helena and Calypso's duel, forming great puddles on either side of them.

Calypso wore a sadistic grin as he pushed all his strength and energy into his blades. Why kill her quickly with a powerful attack when he could simply crush her where she lay?

Blinking back the darkness from her vision, Helena gripped at the shattered swords in her toes. Practically nothing but the hilts remained. Gazing blearily into Calypso's sadistic, azure eyes, she almost smirked.

How could he so easily forget that she was a four-sword style swordsman?

Kicking up one of her legs, she easily tangled one of her foot hilts into his dreads. With one good yank, she sent him stumbling backward…

…and straight into a misfired stream of cheese.

"Whad thuh-?!" he started, his speech still affected by his punctured tongue.

"Sacre bleu!" Feta cried as Calypso swiped cheese from his face.

All of the rats hissed in succession, turning from the pikemen toward him. Calypso's eyes went wide.

"Non non, my pretties!" Feta tried to protest, but that didn't stop the furry wall from advancing on his ally. "Here, I will help clean you off!" The idiot sprayed Calypso with more cheese.

"Whud awe you doin, you mowon?!" Calypso shrieked at him.

"Zut alors! Are you speaking through a mouthful of cheese?"`

"Yeth, are you thpeaking through cheethe?," Harold decided to put in. "You thound funny!"

"Yow won to tawk, mon."

"Are you making fun of my lithp?" Harold shot back.

"That's enough, thank you, Harold," Polydorus put in.

The rats had advanced uncomfortably close to Calypso now. Seeing the pikemens' strategy, he quickly vaulted over them and into the downpour of the aqueduct. When he thought himself clean, he stepped clear, only to discover that the rats had kept their noses turned toward him, their snake tails hissing in hungry anticipation.

The pikemen quickly backed away from him. He glared at them, at the rats, at Helena and Feta, trying to fathom why the rats were still so focused on him. His gaze slowly went upward and it dawned on him…

Though the cheese came clean of his clothes and body, it remained completely entrenched in his dreadlocks.

His gaze fell again toward the advancing hoard, lip and eye twitching, and he swore:

"Aw, thit."